Lines of Communication
by Richefic
Summary: With Tony's father in town, Gibbs is determined to do right by his senior field Agent. So, what exactly is DiNozzo's problem? Spoilers for 7.12 "Flesh and Blood" Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – DiNozzo doesn't suffer nearly enough on the show for me to lay claim to him.

AN- More of "Hearth and Home" will be coming. But I finally saw "Flesh and Blood" this weekend and I just couldn't resist the multi-chapter possibilities!

* * *

"_You need me, McGee?"_

"_No Boss, just gotta tell Tony here something."_

Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't like surprises. He especially didn't like 'em in the middle of a hot case with the potential to become an International incident. But when he came out of his consultations with the Director and the Saudi Embassy to see Ducky waiting for him with a grave expression he instantly knew it wasn't going to be anything good.

"Something up with the body, Duck?"

"I almost wish it were that simple," Mallard looked around, before taking his arm and drawing him into the empty conference room, making sure the door was closed before he continued. "I thought you would want to know straight away. Tony's father is here."

"Here in DC?" Gibbs blinked.

"Here in this very building," Ducky explained. "Or at least he was. I overheard Charles in Building Security telling Delores from Human Resources that he had just been asked by Agent DiNozzo to call a cab for his father. Apparently the physical resemblance is quite striking."

Gibbs frowned, the memory of McGee coming into MTAC positively humming with undisguised glee, wanting to talk to Tony suddenly making a whole lot more sense. Pulling out his phone Gibbs expected to find a voice mail or a text message from DiNozzo. But to his surprise there was nothing at all. Gibbs' concern for his senior field Agent was overlaid by a sharp stab of hurt. Why hadn't Tony been the one to tell him that his father was in town?

"We have any idea why he's turned up now?"

"That is the question, is it not?" Mallard mused. They both knew Tony had had very little contact with his father over the years. Despite the younger man's numerous brushes with death DiNozzo Snr had never shown his face at NCIS before. "Tony fears that he might be unwell. Apparently, his father arrived on the train, which is totally out of character so the poor boy rang me just now to ask about medical conditions which might preclude a person from taking a flight."

"I'm on my way to the Adams House Hotel," Gibbs pressed his lips together. "Can you do a spot of digging, Duck? See if you can find out what we're dealing with here?"

"I can try but my sources will be limited," Mallard warned him. "Unless, his condition is already public knowledge I doubt I will get very far. There is such a thing as Doctor/Patient confidentially Jethro and none of my usual shortcuts will apply since the man is not a suspect in any ongoing investigation."

"Just do your best, Duck."

"Jethro," Mallard's voice stopped him in his tracks. "You will talk to Tony, won't you? I know, how singled minded you become during an investigation, but this really isn't the sort of thing that can be put off until a more convenient time."

Gibbs scowled. He didn't think the Saudi Embassy would take too well to waiting whilst he took time out to hold DiNozzo's hand. More to the point, he wasn't at all sure he trusted himself to handle this right. Part of him wanted nothing more than to take DiNozzo Snr to task for everything he hadn't done for his only son over the years. But he also knew how much Tony ached to have a closer relationship with his father. Having his Boss sticking his nose in could only complicate that. And obviously, DiNozzo felt the same way. What other reason would he have for not bothering to mention his Dad was in town?

"Got a job to do, Duck," Gibbs said gruffly. "And DiNozzo's not a kid anymore. He won't thank me for treating him like one."

"That might indeed be true," Mallard reflected, once he was alone. "None of us ever outgrow the need for a parent's love and care. And I rather fear that DiNozzo Snr is somewhat lacking in that regard."

* * *

Still, even as Gibbs tried to focus on the investigation his mind kept coming back to his senior field Agent. He remembered how uncomfortable he had been back in Stillwater to have his own estranged relationship with his father under the microscope of his team's curiosity. As soon as he had arrived at the Adams House Hotel Ziva had drawn him aside to admit her anxiety over Tony's father true motives for being in town. And the smirk on McGee's face every time he looked at the senior field Agent spoke volumes about how much he was looking forward to using DiNozzo Snr's visit as ammunition in their ongoing battles of sibling rivalry.

Tony still hadn't said a damned word.

When he arrived at the Hotel, DiNozzo had been busy liaising with his Saudi counterparts and Hotel security so he had been forced to get a sit rep from Ziva and McGee. The team lead knew it was exactly what he would expect his senior field Agent to be doing in these circumstances. Still he hadn't missed the way DiNozzo had barely glanced at him before looking straight at Prince Abdulla to give his report. Even whilst Gibbs had cooled his heels waiting for McGee and one of the royal guards to make sure the fitness centre was secure, DiNozzo had stayed busy, working out watch rotations for the protection detail with the Commander of the Royal Guards.

"I think that will be more than satisfactory," The man nodded his approval respectfully. "Excuse me, while I advise Prince Abdulla of our arrangements."

For the first time since Gibbs had arrived at the Hotel, Tony was alone. As his senior field Agent turned to look out of the window, the former Marine caught the way his jaw tensed and his eyes clouded with worry. Gibbs' own expression darkened. He knew "DiNozzo's rule number two" as well as any of his own. _Never_ think there isn't _somebody_ watching you. If the best undercover Agent Gibbs had ever worked with was distracted enough to let that slide, then maybe he did need his Boss to step up. Gibbs had actually taken half a pace towards the troubled young man, when he saw Ziva move to stand beside her partner. At her approach DiNozzo straightened up, all traces of emotion instantly wiped from his expression.

"So, your father is in town," Ziva's tone was neutral. "I was pleased to meet him."

"I suppose I should be kinda flattered that people are so excited about his visit," Tony scoffed slightly. "McGee has been wandering around like he won the DC lottery's mega millions all morning. And I've had 42 texts from Abby in the last thirty minutes. Her fingers are scarily fast."

"Did you father tell you what brings him to Washington?" Ziva cut to the chase.

Gibbs tensed. He should have known the former Mossard Officer wouldn't be able to just let this lie. Not when she had already voiced her concerns for her partner. But for once he couldn't predict how Tony would react. Having his father actually here in DC was unchartered territory. He just hoped the bond between his two Agents was strong enough to result in honestly rather than homicide.

"Not yet," Tony sighed. "But isn't just social visit. It's not like him to show up like this. You know, I actually think he might be dying? He took the train and he never takes the train. There are medical conditions which mean you can't fly aren't there?"

"I am sure we could manage, if you need to take some leave?" Ziva suggested. "Spend some time with him?"

"You know," Tony gave a mirthless smile. "That is actually almost funny. Because, I already suggested the exact same thing to my Dad, but he was going to be much too busy."

"Too busy?" Ziva's sceptical expression reflected Gibbs' own feelings perfectly. "Doing what exactly?"

"Story of my life, my little Ninja," Tony laughed hollowly. "I have absolutely no idea. Right now, I don't even know where he is or what he is doing."

Gibbs curled his hands into fists so tight that his finger nails bit into his palms. It wasn't like he didn't know about the casual neglect DiNozzo Snr had inflicted on his only son but hearing the resignation in Tony's voice cut deep. His had seen his senior field Agent fight toe to toe with crazed drug dealers, international terrorists, the damned plague and even his bastard of a Boss without flinching. That the younger man simply accepted that his wants and needs wasn't a priority with his father made Gibbs' itch to slap some sense into him.

But then McGee returned and wanted to give him a threat assessment, the Commander of the Royal Guards asked to talk about jurisdiction and afterwards Prince Abdulla required his attention and the case had to come first. So, the team lead could do nothing but listen with half an ear as DiNozzo and McGee escorted Ziva and Prince Sayif into the elevator as they headed for the fitness centre and then stationed themselves in the hallway as they waited for him to finish taking his leave of the Prince.

"So, 'Junior' huh?" He heard McGee murmured. "You kept that pretty quiet."

"It's a matter of public record that my name is Anthony DiNozzo the same as my father." Tony pointed out.

"Yeah, but still. 'Junior'" McGee smirked.

"Listen McNickname, you even think about calling me that and I'll .. I don't know what I'll do but it won't be pretty," Tony faltered as inspiration failed to strike. His smooth façade crumbled into irritation. McGee opened his mouth to speak but Tony beat him to it. "You stay here and wait for Gibbs. I'm going down to check on Ziva and our precocious Prince."

"Whatever you say," McGee waited a beat until Tony was inside the elevator and the doors were about to close. "Junior."

Coming up behind him Gibbs didn't give his smug Agent even a single second to bask in the enjoyment of his baiting, before his hand connected sharply with the back of his head.

"Boss," McGee tried to recover from the stinging chastisement. "I didn't see you there."

"Don't let me hear you calling him that again, are we clear McGee?" Gibbs warned.

"But Boss, he calls me .." McGee protested.

"McGee!" Gibbs barked, instantly lowering his voice to a deathly whisper as he realised they were attracting attention from the Saudi's. "You don't call him that. Ever. Are we clear?"

"We are," McGee nodded fervently. "Crystal clear, Boss."

Gibbs looked at the elevator as the numbers descended. He didn't know what had bothered him more, the bleak look on DiNozzo's face as the elevator doors closed, or the fact that his Senior Field Agent was clearly sufficiently off his game that he couldn't even think up one of his trademark comebacks that usually came as naturally to him as breathing. Instinctively, he pulled out his phone, his finger hovering over the speed dial. Only to click in shut in frustration.

Tony knew enough to ask for his help if he wanted it. But he hadn't even raised the fact that his father was in town. Instead, he had knuckled down and done the job he was trained him to do. So far, a damned sight better than Gibbs had managed in the same circumstances. Back in Stillwater hhe had felt like a damned teenager again, every time his Dad looked in his direction. Still, that hadn't turned out too badly, all things considered. Much as he hated the idea, he owed Tony his own chance to find his way with his father, without his second B for bastard Boss making things even harder for him.

"With me, McGee," He decided, putting his phone firmly in his pocket, as he headed to the stairs. "DiNozzo and David can handle things here."


	2. Chapter 2

"_Who does he look like?"_

"_Who?"_

"_Tony's father!"_

" _I haven't seen him."_

Gibbs could understand Abby's curiosity. And for once he wasn't avoiding her questions just because he wanted to focus on the case. He actually had no idea what Tony's father looked like, or whether father and son shared the same sense of humour. Oh, he'd been curious enough over the years, but he had never gone digging beyond the regulation enquires required for DiNozzo's initial background check. He remembered the first time the issue had come up, mere months into Tony's tenure at NCIS.

"_Honestly, Jethro," Mallard had complained. "If you are so concerned that Agent DiNozzo's father is a less than stellar example of parenthood, why don't you find out for yourself?"_

"_Can't do that, Duck."_

"_You have the resources of an entire Federal Agency, not to mention one or two unofficial channels of your own. I am sure you could call in a favour or two, Agent Fornell, perhaps?"_

"_After what happened with Diane? I doubt he'll ever speak to me again." Gibbs shook his head. "Besides, I'm not going to Fornell over this."_

"_Then perhaps one of your colleagues from "Black Ops," Ducky suggested. "I'm sure they have their ways and means."_

"_I'm not looking to off the guy, Duck."_

"_You know, if you investigated you might find that your fears are unfounded," Ducky pressed. "Whilst it is true that Agent DiNozzo __has an excessive need for admiration, that is not in itself evidence of parental neglect. Then we could perhaps all rest a little easier. And if not then surely the man deserves everything he has coming to him. You are usually the first to want to see justice done."_

"_You think that's what's best forDiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded._

"_In matters of his own health and well being I am beginning to realise that Tony doesn't know what's best for him," Ducky pointed out. "Frankly, given your obvious fondness for the boy. I'm amazed you can show such restraint."_

Gibbs hadn't given an answer back then. The subsequent revelation of the murder of his first wife and daughter had become a partial explanation. Confidences were something to be shared over time, not profiled in some Agency dossier. If he expected Tony to respect the memories he chose not to share then he had to do the same. His estrangement from his own father had been another clue. Gibbs had felt like he was the last person to judge how things should stand between a father and a son. And then there was the fledgling, gossamer silk thread of trust between him and DiNozzo, which had been gradually weaving into a band of steel.

Poking his nose into DiNozzo's business like that would have blown that trust sky high.

Still might.

Just thinking about that stiffened Gibbs resolve to keep his focus firmly on the case. Those boundaries had softened over the years. He could be kinda proud that DiNozzo had hacked into his NCIS file to find out small titbits like the name of his hometown. Tony tolerated Gibbs complete disregard of his privacy when his health was at risk with good-natured teasing. But the big things, Shannon, Kelly, Tony's mother, Gibbs father, Tony's father. Those things remained a matter of disclosure rather than discovery. Each man exchanging moments and fragments they felt comfortable sharing, but both respecting each other's discomfort at opening old wounds.

By the time the team lead relayed the information from MTAC to his Agents on the ground at the Adams House Hotel, about a possible Jihad al Hariri operative in the guest business centre Gibbs was pretty much resigned to the fact that he was only going to meet DiNozzo Snr on Tony's terms. Which could well mean not at all. Flipping his phone open to see Ziva's caller ID he was not prepared for what followed.

"Gibbs, Tony and I have apprehended the individual who was writing the suspect e-mail."

"Yeah, so? What are you waiting for Special Agent David?, Bring 'em in."

"We are making our way to the car as we speak. But Gibbs, there is something you should know."

"They try resisting arrest?" Gibbs hazarded.

"Um," Ziva hedged. "We have not exactly arrested him. He has promised to come quietly and he assures us of his full co-operation."

"Let me get this straight," Gibbs moved away from Vance and the others so that he could not be overheard. "You and your partner have just apprehended a key suspect in an assassination attempt on a foreign national and a member of their royal family to boot and you decided not to slap the cuffs on him because he promised to _behave _himself? What the hell were you thinking?"

"Gibbs the man we apprehended is Anthony DiNozzo Snr Tony's father."

"What?" Gibbs couldn't believe his ears, of all the dumb luck. He'd thought catching a disease from the dark ages or being accused of murder three times was about as bad as things could get for his senior field Agent. Seems he had been wrong about that. Belatedly, he realised that Ziva would be expecting some sort of command decision from him. "Alright, have Tony bring him in. You may as well stay on the Prince for now. I'll have someone relieve you later."

"On it, Gibbs."

Closing his phone with a sigh Gibbs personally took care of collating all the evidence that had about the suspect e-mail and making enquires with the Adams House Hotel and the train station to try and verify DiNozzo Snr's purpose in DC. The news that the man had taken a cab straight from the train station to the Navy Yard where Prince Sayif was being held under protection was unwelcome but just might be explained by a strong desire to see his son after such a long absence. The revelation that DiNozzo Snr had only tried to check into the Adams House Hotel _after_ he left the Navy Yard was too much of a damned co-incidence. And Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't believe in co-incidences.

"Damn it, DiNozzo." He growled.

Part of him sympathised. Back in Stillwater he had felt like a damned teenager every time his Dad has so much as glanced in his direction. But Tony was also an experienced Federal Agent who should have known better than to spill the details of an ongoing investigation. If Vance found out the senior field Agent could be in line for some serious disciplinary action. Lifting the receiver to make another call on his desk phone, Gibbs stilled and then replaced it as the intended recipient of his call emerged from the elevator.

"Given recent developments, I have taken the liberty of expediting my investigations into Tony's father's well being. According, to his latest physical, Tony's father is in as good health as a man of his years, who drank rather heavily at once time, can reasonably expect to be." At Gibbs enquiring look, Mallard shrugged unapologetically. "Abby told me Tony was brining his father in for questioning. I don't think there is anything that occurs in this building that girl doesn't know about."

"So, he's not sick," Gibbs pushed back in his chair and eyed the ME. If Tony's father wasn't here because of some illness then he had to have another reason for being in DC. "Wish that sounded like better news, Duck."

"You aren't seriously thinking that Tony's father is involved in the assassination attempt, are you?" Mallard worried.

"Right now, I don't know what I'm thinking," Gibbs admitted. "Except that, I'm gonna tear a strip off DiNozzo for being a damned idiot."


	3. Chapter 3

Gibbs and Ducky came around the corner of the hallway leading to interrogation, just as Tony was ushering his father into the small interview room. Gibbs caught no more than a glimpse of silver hair and a well cut suit before the two figures stepped over the threshold. But as the door slowly closed behind them he could hear the elder DiNozzo making exactly the same kind of sarcastic remarks about the drab décor and lack of room service that Tony always made when he was held captive.

"Clearly the apple didn't fall too far from the tree." Ducky murmured.

"We'll see." Gibbs was curt.

"Jethro, I know how you feel about the man," Mallard counselled softly. "But this is hardly the time or the place."

Gibbs wasn't sure that was going to matter. He could forgive DiNozzo Snr his drinking after his wife's death. God knows he understood what it was like to lose yourself in pain and grief. Part of him might even accept that the man had tried to do right by his son growing up. Certainly Tony had never wanted for anything money could buy. And some people just weren't cut out to have children. But his continuing distance now that Tony was an adult filled Gibbs with fury at the senseless, useless _waste_. Seeing Maddie Tyler had been a bitter-sweet reminder of what might have been. Gibbs could never have that with his daughter. Tony wanted that with his father. Except the man simply didn't seem to give a damn.

After the plague, when the sight of Tony beginning to chafe at his invalid regime, voicing his protests about the bland food, the tedious and uncomfortable breathing exercises and complaining about being stuck indoors, had been enough to the dark days in isolation to the back of his mind Gibbs had realised a few certain truths. First, that _sound_ as Tony had fought for each breath in the isolation chamber would haunt him until the day he died. Second, if Tony died, he would grieve for him as a mentor and a friend, but mostly as a father. Third, as Tony slowly recovered he had been plagued by nightmares of not being able to get enough oxygen. He had often woken in wide-eyed terror, gasping for breathe, with Gibbs' name on his lips. Not his father, never his father.

Just thinking about what that signified made Gibbs blood boil. He wanted to take DiNozzo Snr, slam him up against the wall and then shake him until his teeth rattled. Maybe then it might be possible to get through to the man what he was missing out on.

"Just going to ask him a few questions, Duck." Gibbs smiled dangerously.

"Indeed," Mallard reproved. "I know you, Jethro. The kind of questions you're thinking about could end your career. Do you really think Tony would thank you for that?"

"Frankly, I don't have the first clue where DiNozzo's head is right now," Gibbs was frustrated. The admission was a hard one to make. Over the years he and Tony had become so good at reading each other that words were often unnecessary. Tony so studiously ignoring the topic of his father being in town had thrown the former Marine. A word or two, a shared look, even a roll of DiNozzo's eyes could have conveyed volumes, but Tony had remained uncharacteristically tight lipped. Not to mention, his senior field Agen,t who had resisted giving out sensitive information under the effects of dehydration, sleep deprivation, torture and truth serum, had blurted out the details of an ongoing investigation simply because his father had _asked_. "He screwed up, Duck."

"Don't be too hard on the boy. He made a mistake, but the man is his father, after all."

"And he's _my_ Agent!"

Hearing the emotion in his own voice Gibbs bit down hard on the inside of his cheek, knowing exactly how jealous that had sounded. Predictably, Mallard did not react to his outburst, except to raise a knowing brow, with served merely to fuel the team lead's already growing irritation.

"This isn't about me and his father," He attempted to defend himself. "It's about Special Agent DiNozzo releasing details of a highly sensitive NCIS international security situation to a man wearing a visitor's badge just because he happens to be his father."

Mallard opened his mouth to reply but any further comment he might have made was cut off by the sound of the door to the interview room opened, as Tony prepared to step out into the hallway.

"Aren't _you_ going to question me?" His father's voice asked.

"Not me, that's called conflict of interests," Tony explained. "Special Agent Gibbs, will be along shortly."

"Gibbs?" The anticipation and amusement in the man's voice came through loud and clear and grated on Gibbs' ears. "So, I finally get to meet this legendary Boss of yours?"

"Yeah, I guess you do," Tony sighed. Then he paused, as if considering his next words carefully, before asking. "Dad, whatever is going on, just tell Gibbs the truth. Please?"

"You worry too much, Junior, " His father dismissed his concerns. "There's nothing going on. Frankly, I don't see why you wouldn't just explain what this was all about back at the Hotel like I asked you to. We could have had a drink and straightened things out in no time."

"Because, like I've been trying to tell you I'm a Federal Agent, Dad and I have a job to do," Tony sounded weary as if they had had this conversation many times on the ride back from the Adams House. "Look, just stay put. _Don't_ try to leave. Gibbs is already on his way down, he'll be here any second."

The two men waiting in the hallway watched silently as Tony closed the door and turned around, to lean back against it, effectively blocking the exit. Slumping slightly against the woodwork he raised his eyes to heaven as if asking for strength before he closed them tight shut, clenching his hands into fists in an effort to hold in his emotions and screwed up his face into a groan of frustration.

"Could this day _get_ any worse?" He muttered, sotto voice.

"I don't know, are you afraid he's gonna try to make a run for it?" Gibbs asked dryly, observing the way his Agent was standing guard.

At once, Tony's eyes snapped open, his head swivelling around so fast he almost fell over. Seeing the two men standing there watching him he coloured slightly at being caught in such an unguarded moment. Ducky's expression seemed kind of sympathetic, but Gibbs was completely unreadable. Hastily, he straightened up, tugging sharply on his suit to bring it into line and pasting on a weak smile as he took a placating step towards his Boss.

"Gibbs, you're here. And Ducky. Ducky's here too, Ducky," Tony seized on the word like a lifeline. "How is your mother doing today?"

"Its very kind of you to enquire again, Tony," Mallard regarded him fondly. "But her condition remains much the same as it was when you asked me first thing this morning."

"Well, good," Tony floundered. "That's good because she hasn't got any worse."

Silently waiting, Gibbs simply raised a brow, reminding DiNozzo that he had asked a question, knowing full well that although Tony seemed to be studiously avoiding all eye contact with him, he would not miss the gesture.

"Look Boss," Tony grasped the nettle. "I know this looks bad."

"Damned straight it does," Gibbs didn't beat around the bush. "You told your father why Prince Sayif was under NCIS protection and where he was staying."

Tony's face reddened, his ears turning bright pink, as he straightened almost to attention, in the midst of everything else he had almost forgotten that moment of weakness when his father had fixed him with a stern look and he had blurted out everything the man wanted to know. No wonder Gibbs was pissed. Inwardly, he was mortified that he had disappointed this man. Guess this day _could_ get worse after all. But he didn't break eye contact and he didn't make any attempt to deny his behaviour.

"I know, I screwed up," He admitted. "Its just I wasn't exactly expecting to see him and suddenly there he is and he's calling me "Junior" and giving me that look and its like I'm ten years old again and trying not to let on that I got a "F" in Math."

"It is remarkable how one's parent's never loose the knack of making one feel like a child," Ducky observed. "Don't you agree, Jethro?"

Gibbs shot him a venomous glare, knowing full well that the ME was making reference to his relationship with his own father. He wanted to argue that this was different. That he hadn't almost screwed up that case in Stillwater because being around his father had made he act like a kid. But he couldn't deny that old scores to settle with Chuck had clouded his judgement for a time.

"Um," Tony looked a little sick, which at least proved he knew how serious this was. "Does the Director know?"

The former Marine narrowed his eyes as he looked back at his senior field Agent. He figured he could probably keep Vance from knowing about this, this time. Even so, he couldn't afford to cut Tony any slack. That could cost them both their careers and whilst Gibbs was prepared to sacrifice his to protect the younger man, he wasn't about to let the best young Agent he had ever worked with get canned because of a boneheaded mistake. He didn't give a rat's ass that DiNozzo wouldn't like what he was about to do, he had to get him to fly straight and get his head back in the game where it belonged.

"You screw up that bad again and you'll get a whole lot more than a failing grade," He warned. "And you won't have to worry about what the Director will do, _I'll_ put you on suspension so fast your head will spin. Are we clear, Special Agent DiNozzo?"

He saw the way that Tony's eyes widened and his face swiftly paled as if Gibbs had landed a physical blow. In the past nine years his unconventional methods had earned him more than his share of formal reprimands from various Directors, for everything to pissing off beltway lawyers and high-ranking politicians to not following procedure when he opened that envelope with the Plague. His hot-headedness and tendency to act without thinking, had resulted in a number of informal sanctions and training sessions from Gibbs, designed to knock him into shape. But he could count on three fingers the times he had screwed up sufficiently for Gibbs to invoke formal disciplinary proceedings.

"Won't happen again, Boss." Tony assured him, his eyes dark and serious.

"So, what have you got?"

Gibbs deliberately withheld absolution. He needed DiNozzo to remember this lesson. Tony winced slightly at the coolness of his tone but Gibbs watched with quiet pride as the younger man visibly gathered himself together and returned his focus to the case.

"I don't know why my father is in town, but I do know that he didn't know the Prince was in Washington until he saw him at the Navy Yard. Believe me, surprise is not an emotion he's comfortable with, he likes to be the one calling the shots."

"Anything else?"

"It is possible that my Dad turning up after all these years, the very same day of the attempt on the Prince's life, when he just happens to have history with the Ibn Alweens could just be a co-incidence."

"You forget how I feel about co-incidences?" Gibbs challenged.

"He's not a killer, Boss," Tony stood his ground. "Whatever else my father might be he would never willingly get mixed up in something like this."

It was on the tip of Gibbs tongue to ask the younger man if he really thought he knew his father well enough to make that kind of judgement call about his innocence. From what Gibbs could gather the two men were virtually strangers to one another, As far as he could tell Tony had barely spent any time with his father growing up, even less since he had graduated High School. Hell, Gibbs was pretty sure he had spent more time with Tony in the last nine years than his father had during his whole lifetime. But the question was too cruel, and besides it was un-necessary, Gibbs was confident he could handle DiNozzo Snr.

"Still gotta get some answers." He reminded the younger man.

"I know," Tony made a face. "The thing is, Boss, he'll try not to give them to you. Everything, I know about deflection I learned from that man. He never would give me straight answer to a straight question. Just try not to kill him, please?"

Gibbs blinked at the unaccustomed note of pleading in DiNozzo's voice. It was an unwelcome reminder that this man wasn't just any suspect - he was Tony's father. A man's whose affection and regard his senior field Agent still desperately wanted. And much as Gibbs might want to exact justice for everything he had done, he owed it to the partner who had watched his six all these years to treat his flesh and blood with at least the appearance of civility. Gibbs clenched his jaw. Maybe if he thought of the interview as an undercover operation with some nameless mark, a man whose son he hadn't come to love like his own, he might just get through it without socking the guy in the jaw. With that firmly in mind, Gibbs reigned in his feelings, turned on his heel, arranged his face into a mask of politeness and entered the interrogation room without another word.

"You know, this is just like that movie. You know, the one where..," Tony began automatically, only to pause as a truly horrifying and dreadful thought occurred to him. "Actually, I can't think of a single movie that can even begin to describe what I'm feeling right now."

"There, there my boy," Ducky patted his shoulder comfortingly "Jethro, has become rather adept at dealing with your foibles over the years, I rather think he can manage a few minutes alone with your father."

And then he turned away to go into the observation room, leaving Tony alone in the hallway.


	4. Chapter 4

"_What are you thinking?"_

"_He's not involved."_

"_But?"_

"_But he's got an agenda."_

"_Agreed."_

Anthony DiNozzo was a curious person. It was part of who he was. Kate had always complained to Gibbs that he was prying. McGee called him DiNosy, Ziva simply threatened to disembowel him with a paper clip if he ever touched her stuff. Tony's lofty claim was always that it made him a better investigator. The plain truth was he wanted to be part of their lives, to know the names of their siblings, their favourite foods, what they did in their spare time and if they wouldn't share those details with him then it was his duty as their partner to find them out. He refused to accept that it was because his own father had always been such a mystery to him. Although, he figured the reason Gibbs didn't reign him in as much as he should had something to do with his Boss knowing what it was like to yearn to be part of a family.

Standing out the interview room, not knowing what was going on, as his Boss spoke with his Dad was killing him. It was the longest two minutes and twelve seconds of his life. Fearing the worst, he didn't even bother to straighten up as Gibbs came out. But the former Marine's calm demeanour, followed by the almost clinical instruction to keep his father away from the Ibn Alwaan family was not what he was expecting at all. He had snapped off his responses by rote even as his emotions churned. He knew he should be glad that there weren't enough grounds for NCIS to arrest his father, or even hold him for further questioning. But making _him _his father's keeper felt like a lot like Gibbs version of a reprimand.

Putting all his frustrations into channelling his Boss's driving skills the ride back to the Adams House was a hell of a lot quicker and a whole lot quieter.

"Excuse me," His father managed, as he exited the Agency Sedan looking a little green around the gills. "I just need a few minutes to freshen up."

"It's almost cocktail hour," Tony made a show of looking at his watch. "How about I get the drinks in and meet you in the lobby bar in about five minutes?"

Tony barely waited for his father to weakly nod his agreement and disappear inside the revolving doors, before he reached into the back seat and retrieved the Agency laptop, powering it up and clicking the icons to active the web cam link to Abby's lab. Whilst he was waiting for the connection to go live a quick scowl and a flash of his badge sent the hovering valet parkers scattering and it was with some relief that Tony turned his attention to the screen

"Abs, I need a favour."

Five minutes and eight seconds later, Tony was collecting his order from the barman at the Adams Hotel, taking a moment to check out a very attractive brunette before joining his father at his table. Once upon a time, he would have swallowed his feelings, desperately hoping that if he could be smart or funny, or just good enough company his father would want to spend more time with _him,_ instead of chasing after the next rich widow or must have business deal. Tonight all the different emotions he was feeling gave him the courage to speak his mind in a way that he had never dared before.

"_You've always been disappointed I became a cop." _

In a way, his father's reassurances cut more deeply than his disapproval might have done. Words of anger or reprimand would at least mean that the man had some yard stick he wanted to measure his son's achievements by. His Dad's lack of comment seemed more like disinterest. And there was nothing Anthony DiNozzo Junior hated more than being overlooked. The sharp, hot, surge of fury he felt forced the anger bubbling underneath to the surface and words long unsaid past his lips, with a depth of feeling he rarely felt comfortable showing.

"_I needed a closer relationship." _

His father's excuses rang hollowly in his ears and for the first time Tony realised he was not the same person he had been last time the two of them had met. Ten years ago he would never have dared challenge his father, not over the Maui vacation, not over his unknown step-mother. All for fear that that the man would simply walk out of his life without a backward glance and this time wouldn't care enough to ever come back. Except that over the past decade he had not only managed without the man, he had begun to understand what it was like to be part of a family and at this precise moment, Tony would almost be glad to see the back of his father.

"_Listen, you stay away from the Ibn Alwaaan's. Please?" _

As he walked away he hoped that the fervent request, made by the man's only son would carry some weight. But in his heart he knew different. His feelings had never carried the slightest bit of weight if they interfered with his father's plans when he was growing up. Why should that change now? Which meant Gibbs would be pissed at him again, because that man would never understand that that the wants and needs of a child didn't necessarily out weight a parent's agenda.

At least that's what Tony had always figured.

He closed his eyes against the wave of bitterness that engulfed him as he called the elevator. Over the last nine years he and Gibbs had forged a bond of trust and affection that had been the closest thing to a 'real' family Tony had known outside of "Leave it to Beaver." Yet when Abby had sent him the video feed of his interview with DiNozzo Snr it the events which unfolded had been nothing like he had expected. Biting the inside of his cheek against _that_ memory he wondered bleakly if Gibbs had figured he was finally out of head slap territory and had cut him loose to stand on his own two feet.

That thought wasn't nearly as pleasing to him as his team-mates might imagine.

* * *

Gibbs' good mood at establishing that they weren't dealing with a terrorist threat, coupled with the fact that Prince Sayif would soon pass his check flight and be out of their jurisdiction, evaporated quickly when he caught sight of DiNozzo Snr loitering in the lobby of the Adams House Hotel. He narrowly avoided rolling his eyes at the man's thinly veiled attempts at subterfuge. Gibbs took a moment to reflect that if Tony had been that damned obvious he would never have survived his first undercover operation. It was clear to the veteran NCIS Agent that the only reason DiNozzo Snr would be waiting there was to catch his former business associate Prince "Al" as soon as he arrived at the Hotel.

And that meant Gibbs needed to have words with his senior field Agent.

Already pissed that he was going to have to come down hard on DiNozzo again, less than 24 hours after his previous dressing down, Gibbs jabbed a little harder at the elevator call button than was strictly necessary. Reading his change in mood, Ziva wisely held her peace as the elevator ascended. Leaving Gibbs to dwell on the fact that his usual easy rapport with Tony seemed to have gone to hell in a hand basket since his father arrived in town. On entering the suite, his blood pressure rose a notch higher, as he took in his senior field Agent being manipulated by an attractive female as the Prince, wearing only a towelling robe, entertained a nubile young woman on his lap, whilst another attractive female lolled on the floor wearing what looked suspiciously like a pair of NCIS regulation handcuffs. Not quite believing his eyes Gibbs blinked.

"_DiNozzo?"_

The response was nothing like he expected. Oh sure, Tony acknowledged his presence and drew himself to his feet. But his words were of excuse rather than apology and his movements were leisurely, hardly the reaction of a man caught embarrassingly unawares. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Gibbs realised that he was being goaded to re-act. The realisation made the blood in his veins run ice cold. It had been a long time since DiNozzo had felt the need to 'act out' purely to get his attention. And even longer since Gibbs had mis-read his senior field Agent so completely, yanking the stupid cowboy hat off his Agent's head he forgot everything. He forgot about all the resolutions he had made to show restraint whilst Tony's father was in town. He forgot about DiNozzo Snr lurking in the lobby. He forgot about the watching audience of Ziva and Prince Sayif and he focused solely on what the _hell_ was wrong with his senior field Agent.

"_Party's over." _

He knew even the repeated swats with the hat wouldn't actually hurt. Even though DiNozzo cringed and made like they did it was more like tapping a puppy with a rolled up newspaper. A gesture of authority without any actual physical pain, Lord knows, Gibbs was sufficiently aware of how unsettled DiNozzo was, simply having his father in town, to risk an honest to goodness head slap. He also realised that DiNozzo had been lying through his teeth when he said he hadn't expected Gibbs for another hour. This whole scenario had been less of a command decision and more of a set up. DiNozzo had been practically begging to be brought back into line.

Still, he had to admit, he didn't much appreciate being tested. After all this time, didn't DiNozzo know him better than that? Even as the other part of his brain reluctantly acknowledged that the play boy Prince _was_ probably safer partying in his suite than going out clubbing in DC the fact that DiNozzo had chosen now to act like an overgrown frat boy grated. So that when DiNozzo Snr emerge from the elevator chatting with Prince Omar Ibn Alween all his fury, at the Ibn Alween's for landing their mess in his lap,. At DiNozzo Snr for being the man he was, at Tony for everything that had happened since his father had set foot in DC, bubbled over.

"_Give me a reason not to bench you."_

Afterwards, Gibbs would curse himself for being a damned fool. The way Tony instantly sobered at his threat, the way his expression quickly became deadly serious was every clue the former Marine should ever have required. The younger man had never needed to be handled with kid gloves. If anything he distrusted gentleness. What DiNozzo wantded was to understand that Gibbs had his six. Come hell or high water he would not be dealing with any of this crap alone. He had a team who relied on him, but equally he had a team on whom he could rely. Putting every ounce of that conviction into his eyes, Gibbs gaze bore into that of his senior field Agent. In return something seemed to shift in DiNozzo's expression and the younger man's tone carried nothing but honest sincerity when he vowed not to let his father out of his sight.

As Gibbs watched him go, he cursed himself for being such a damned idiot. And in that moment, the former Marine knew that he had really screwed up to think that his senior field Agent didn't need him now his father was here. With that man around Tony needed him more than ever.

* * *

AN – Apologies that not much 'new' happens in this chapter, I needed to get into Tony and Gibbs heads a little for what is to come to make any sense. Hence getting two chapters at once!


	5. Chapter 5

Tony barely managed to bite back his frustration as his father strode back into the bullpen and swiftly commandeered his desk _and_ his computer to conduct his apparently urgent business. Part of him was furious with the man and longed to rail and shout. He'd practically begged his father to stay away from the Ibn Alwaan's, but as usual his needs had been brushed aside in the face of what his father wanted. The other part of him was simply grateful that he had the means to keep his father occupied where he could keep an eye on him.

"What does a person have to do around here to get a drink or something?" DiNozzo Snr groused after a while.

"This is a Federal building, Dad," Tony pointed out, a little testily. "It doesn't serve McAllen eighteen."

"All that schmoozing he must do with the Navy Brass and your Director doesn't have a wet bar?" DiNozzo Snr gave his son a knowing glance. "But I was actually thinking of something to drink. I'm thirsty."

"Oh," Tony blushed slightly, glad that no-one was around to see his embarrassment. He didn't know what was worse. That he had assumed that his Dad would want alcohol in the middle of the day or that DiNozzo Snr had so easily seen through his pious posturing. "The break room has coffee and tea and stuff."

"Well?" His father looked impatient. "Lead the way, Junior."

Not especially enjoying the reflex that had him jumping to obey Tony obediently conducted his father to the small break room, situated off the bullpen. To his enormous relief the room was presently empty, which meant he didn't have to answer any more awkward questions. Working in a building of people who investigated things for a living could have its drawbacks and Tony knew that the physical resemblance between him and his father was far too striking not to evoke his co-workers curiosity.

"Cofffee?" He suggested, without waiting for an answer. Years of working as a cop and with Gibbs had made the beverage almost mandatory. His personal preferences of hot tea or hot chocolate were sometimes indulged by his team when he was sick or injured, but Tony could and had downed Gibbs' strength caffeine when the case required it. "Cream and four sugars, right?"

"Two sugars," DiNozzo Snr corrected, making a small face. "Not as young as I used to be, need to watch the waistline."

"Two sugars, it is."

Tony filled the coffee pot with water, and reached up into the cabinet, scowling as he realised that the catering sized drum of coffee, bought by some budget cutting type, was empty. Tossing it in the trash he quickly located an unopened drum in the cupboard. Automatically whipping out his knife to slice through the seal and prise it open it he was unprepared for his father's reaction.

"You carry a knife as well as a gun?" The tone was disapproving. "I thought this was our capital city not downtown Afghanistan."

"You were the one who paid for me to learn knife throwing at summer camp," Tony pointed out. "Although, I don't suppose you remember that, because when I finally got home you were too busy to watch what I'd learned."

"That _again _Junior?" His father sighed. "I thought we'd been over that."

"Besides, Tony continued as if his father had never spoken. "This isn't just a knife its a Zero Tolerance 0300 series. It has saved my life more than once."

"Looks expensive," His father peered over his shoulder, examining the inscription _Tony DiNozzo 04.24.06 Hero Love LJG_ with narrowed eyes. "What on earth did you do to be considered a hero?"

For a second, Tony was back in the heat and danger of the jungle, Ziva and McGee standing guard as he held Gibbs injured body in his arms and tried to coax the man he loved like a father into taking small sips of water from his canteen, knowing that the responsibility of getting all four of them safely out of there rested firmly on his shoulders. Feeling once again the bite of the whip across his back as his captors tried in vain to find out what he knew. He still bore those light silvery scars on his back. There was no way he was going to share the details of that mission with his Dad.

"It's classified." He retorted tightly.

"LJG?" His father tried a different tack. "That supervisor of yours gave you this?"

"He's my Boss," Tony corrected. "And the best and most honourable man it had ever been my privilege to know."

"Is that so?" DiNozzo Snr coolly raised a brow. The fact that Tony had said 'know' instead of 'work with' escaping neither man. "And what exactly did he do to earn such devotion?"

"Well, let's see, Dad," Tony deliberately baited. "He trained me, taught me, watched my six when I was in danger, pulled my ass out of the fire when I was in trouble, slapped me silly when I screwed up, stood by me when I needed a friend, took care of me when I was sick, giave me a roof over my head when I needed one and always been there when I needed him."

"Sounds like you've got him on some kind of pedestal," His father mocked slightly.

"It's not like he's perfect," Tony defended himself. "Gibbs can be stubborn, pig-headed and a grade A bastard. When he goes off half cocked I want to shoot him myself. I've had to save his life more times than I can count. He's made mistakes, but he's always been there for me."

"What exactly are you insinuating, Junior?" His father bristled slightly.

"I'm not _insinuating_ anything, Dad," Tony came as close to insolence as he ever had since he was a teenager and still hoped that this relationship could grow to become more like he wanted it to be. "I'm just saying Gibbs always has my six."

"I took good care of you," His father protested. "You always had clothes on your back, food on the table, nice places to live, good schools to go to. Everything you ever wanted."

"Like I already told you, what I had was boarding school, summer camps, a string of nannies and housekeepers," Tony protested. "What I wanted was for you to take care of me, look after me when I was sick, to play catch with me once in a while, to spend more than a week or so in my company without handing me off to some paid help or other. But you were always too busy or too drunk I _never_ got everything I wanted from you!"

"Someone had to earn us a living," His father shot back. "Those schools of yours didn't come cheap and your mother's money only went so far. Why else do you think I cut you off when you were twelve? You needed to understand that nobody owes anybody a living."

"Really, because all I understood was that you were trying to put even more distance between us!" Tony retorted as he turned back to attack the coffee canister, putting all his force into popping the lid and slicing through the foil top, unwilling to let his father see the depth of emotion in his eyes, clenching his jaw tight enough to break a tooth, when the blade slithered across the foil top to slice clean through the skin on his forearm. "_Damn!_"

"Did you cut yourself?" To Tony's ears his father's tone sounded reproving rather than concerned.

"Its fine, Dad," Tony evaded, quickly tugging his shirt sleeve down firmly over the cut. He didn't want his father to see his pain and anguish. Not any of it. "I just need to put some of this into the .."

"Don't go to any trouble on my account," His father cut him off. "On second thoughts, I'll just have some juice from the vending machine. Better for me that all that caffeine."

"Dad," Tony protested, only to find that he was speaking to empty air. The man had already abandoned him. Left alone his arm burned but it was the unwelcome sting of tears he felt behind his eyes that occupied his full attention. He was _not_ going to cry. Not here. Not now. Not over this. Not ever again. "Damn, damn,_ damn_ .."

"Something bothering you?" Gibbs' voice asked mildly from the doorway.

"Geez, Boss," Tony snapped, with genuine fury as he jumped, all of his anger towards his father being channelled into the nearest target as he struggled to force his feelings of loss and abandonment back down where they belonged. "Can't I just have one _frigging _minute?"

Gibbs chose not to respond to the emotional outburst. Instead he took in the slightly wild demeanour, the tightly clenched jaw and the unexpected glint of unshed tears in his Agent's eyes and knew that DiNozzo was close to losing it. Tony almost never cried. He felt a moment of hot fury towards DiNozzo Snr for still being able to do this to his son. He stepped forward to try and ground his partner, when his eyes tracked the dark rivulet of blood, trickling down his hand to drip onto the floor.

"You cut yourself?" Gibbs asked with a calmness he didn't feel.

"It's just a scratch." Tony dismissed it.

"Even scratches can get infected," Gibbs pointed out. "You want your arm to fall off?"

Tony blinked stupidly, not really feeling at the top of his game right now, and not quite sure if Gibbs was making a joke or not, feeling even closer to tears at the hint of caring than he had at his father's cool indifference. He stood trembling like a skittish colt as Gibbs gently captured his arm, pushed up his sleeve to inspect the shallow but longish cut across his forearm, before tugging him across to the sink, as Gibbs flushed the cut with cool water, Tony felt the tremors in his body begin to subside under the former Marine's careful ministrations.

"Not deep enough for stitches," Gibbs decided as he reached for the first aid kit on the top of the refrigerator, selected a coiled bandage, tearing the film off the protective film with his teeth, before applying it to the wound with more gentleness than the gruff words suggested. "Hold still."

Tony watched with something akin to fascination as Gibbs covered and then wrapped his cut with deft, careful hands. Suddenly he flashed onto the former Marine doing the exact same thing for Kelly when she grazed her knee or cut her finger in some childhood mishap. The image forced him to look away and swallow hard to get himself back under control. He couldn't remember a single time his father had personally tended to his injuries. Half the time the man hadn't even been there.

"You okay?" Gibbs' voice cut into his thoughts.

Blinking sharply, Tony realised his Boss had long since finished tending to him and was looking at him for some kind of response. Straightening his spine and stiffening his shoulders, he opened his mouth to make some kind of glib response before the look of honest concern on Gibbs' face reminded him who exactly he was talking to and allowed himself to sag slightly against the worktop.

"My head's all over the damned place," He admitted with raw honestly. "Maybe you should bench me."

"That what you really want?"

"You want to know what I want?" Tony demanded."After all these years, I want to know better than to want my Dad in my life. Its not like he's ever deserved for me to want that."

"He's still your father." Gibbs reminded him.

"You know, I can't believe that you, of all people are defending him," Tony burst out. "Its bad enough that McGee looks like all his Christmases have come at once and Ziva is doing all that smiling and winking and don't even get me started on her hair. But I saw the way you smiled at him, and then you shook his hand. I worked for you for four years before you finally, _finally _shook my hand and you walk right into interrogation and treat him like he's a long lost friend."

"What did you want me to do?" Gibbs challenged. "Sock him in the jaw?"

"No, of course not," Tony answered reflexively, before he took a moment to take stock of the throbbing of his arm, the stinging behind his eyes and the hollowness in his soul, before he could force out, the cold, ugly truth and his turned to face Gibbs with a cold, hard, look. "Actually, yeah that's _exactly_ what I wanted."


	6. Chapter 6

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Tony knew he should take then back. They both knew he would never want to endanger Gibbs' career like that. The guidelines for NCIS Agents using appropriate force were clearly laid out. And they didn't include unprovoked assaults, even on a person of interest in an ongoing investigation. Except, DiNozzo couldn't bring himself to say he didn't mean it. More than anyone Tony knew how easily Gibbs could circumvent the rules when he wanted to. Sands, Matthews and Brooker, all cam e to mind, the former Marine could intimidate without leaving a mark, or an evidence trail, which meant his Boss had deliberately chosen not to have his six over this.

And_ that _hurt more than his father's indifference.

"Ever since everything went to hell in a hand basket in Baltimore," He reminded his Boss. "You've always had my six. But now when I need you to step up you come over all Mr Congeniality."

"Wanted to deck him." Gibbs admitted quietly.

Tony's head came around sharply at the soft admission, his eyes searching Gibbs' expression and finding nothing but sincerity. Holding his Boss' gaze, he waited, silently telegraphing his need for further clarification.

"Figured I was doing you a favour, making nice," Gibbs shrugged apologetically. He had almost lost it, straight off the bat when them man had introduced himself as the 'real' Tony DiNozzo, then nearly slapped him silly when he tried giving _him _the run-around. "The man's still your father. Wasn't about to forget that."

Tony blinked and something tight inside of him uncoiled slightly as he realised that the former marine had only been trying to do the honourable thing. Meeting Gibbs' gaze his expression softened slightly as his eyes offered his understanding of what his Boss had been trying to do.

"Sometimes I think we're related in name only," Tony admitted ruefully. "I mean, he looks like me, perhaps even sounds a lot like me, but we've always been poles apart on the things that really matter."

"You' ve always called him, Dad," Gibbs observed mildly. "Didn't figure things could be so bad between you."

"That's what kids are supposed to call their fathers, isn't it? I didn't want to be different," Tony dredged up a thin smile. "At school, I'd see the other fathers come and pick their kids up for the vacations and there would always be something a hug, an arm around the shoulders, or a tousle of the hair, as they talked about school and what they were going to do over the holidays. My Dad usually sent the housekeeper or the gardener to collect me. Sometimes, it seemed like the only way I could get his undivided attention was to act out."

Gibbs clenched his jaw as he thought of the bereaved child, almost doubly orphaned, by his absentee father. Left to watch other kids play happy families, desperate for the same love and affection in his own life. No wonder his senior field Agent's sense of self-worth was so closely linked to his need for attention. His father had a lot to answer for and Gibbs knew he hadn't been much better since DiNozzo Snr had arrived in town. He should have been in DiNozzo's face, demanding to know what was going on with him, not leaving him to flounder.

"You know, when I was a kid. I always hoped that if I was smarter, or funnier, or just better company he might actually want to spend time with me, rather than chasing the latest business deal or rich divorcee," Tony shook his head ruefully. "How dumb is that?"

"You're not a kid anymore," Gibbs pointed out. "You want his attention, ask for it."

"It's that simple?" Tony raised a brow.

"If you want it to be," Gibbs allowed. "I hear the rooftop grill at the Adams House does a great rib eye."

"And we have a case." Tony reminded him.

"As soon as the Prince finishes his check flight he'll be out of our hair," Gibbs shrugged. "You'll have the time."

"I always do, he's the one that always cancels," Tony sighed. "Maybe, I'd have better luck with him if I wore a dress and a pair of heels."

Gibbs heard the yearning under the blasé tone. DiNozzo wanted a closer relationship with his father. As much as he didn't want to want it, he still did. Gibbs could understand that. As old as he was he still wanted his father in his life.

"You do have good legs." He observed dryly.

That got him a bark of laughter and more importantly a loosening of the younger man's shoulders and something of a return to DiNozzo's usual equilibrium, as the younger man made an effort to straighten up, tugged his suit jacket back into place, achieving something close to normality.

"Ask him." Gibbs nudged, not exactly an order but a clear expectation.

"Boss .." Tony began, only to be cut off as Gibbs' phone demanded attention.

"That'll be Ziva," The team lead briefly checked the caller ID. "Need to transport the Prince for his check ride."

Tony nodded silently. Not expecting anything more as they turned their attention back to the case, when his Boss paused and offered him a small half smile of encouragement, tapping him lightly under the chin, before leaving it was a welcome reminder that he wasn't alone in this. As he stood alone in the break room, he reached up and touched the spot, still warm from Gibbs fingers, as if seeking reassurance and a soft, fond smile spread across his face. He should have know that Gibbs wouldn't leave him hanging.

Even so, he wasn't prepared for what his Boss actually did.

* * *

Mindful of his promise to Gibbs, not to let his father out of his sight, Tony had no choice but to bite his tongue and settle himself into McGee's desk when he returned from the break room to find that his father had made himself at home and was using the phone in his workspace.

"Junior, can you get me into this thing?" His father waved at his computer once he ended his call.

"Don't you think you've sent enough e-mails for one day?"

"That depends," His father fixed him with a knowing glance. "Do you want me to fix that problem with the bank for you or not?"

"This isn't a Cyber Cafe, Dad," Tony protested. "There's all sorts of secret, Navy stuff on there."

"And I'm presuming that all those programmes are protected by their own passwords. I'm not going to try to open any files. I just need to access the internet. Unless, you really do think I'm some kind of International Terrorist?"

"No, of course not." Tony admitted defeat, coming over and tapping in the password to unlock his monitor. "Just the Internet. And just a few minutes. I've got a lot of work to do."

Almost thirty minutes later he was beginning to feel decidedly twitchy. If he didn't have anything for Gibbs when the man returned with Ziva from dropping Prince Sayif for his check ride, he would look like a dweeb. As things turned out the problem of ejecting his father from his desk was taken out of his hands when the man's business was finally concluded and he decided to leave. Catching Gibbs look, Tony was pleased with his quick thinking in offering "Very Special Probationary Agent" Ziva David as a tour guide, right up until the point when Gibbs interceeded.

"I'm flashing back, boarding school, headmaster wants to speak to my Dad."

Those meetings had never boded well for Tony. At least, this time he was sure that his Boss had his best interests at heart. Whatever passed between him and his father, he trusted Gibbs to do right by him. The man might not be the most verbose or elegant speaker in the word and he certainly wouldn't win any prizes for ass-kissing on the hill. But he knew how to get his message across. Even so, he couldn't help but wonder what they might be saying about him. Trying to take his mind off it by focusing on his work, he had barely opened a file when his father came striding back into the bullpen.

"Junior, call me a cab, I'm going back to the Hotel."

"Dad?"

Tony's head came up sharply at his father's abrupt return, only minutes after his departure with Gibbs. Craning his neck slightly, he cast a worried look at Ziva when he realised his Boss was no-where in sight. Swiftly, looking his father over, he couldn't see any evidence of a fight, but something had stripped away the genial countenance DiNozzo Snr had been sporting around his NCIS colleagues. Half-rising from his seat, he wondered what Gibbs could possibly have said to make the man that pissed.

"Don't bother, I'll do it myself."

Impatient, his father reached over and picked up his desk phone, punching in the number for an outside line, before pulling the card for a local cab company from his pocket. His mind already working overtime, Tony desperately tried to think of a reason to keep his father in the building, he swiftly moved around his desk, 'accidently' catching his foot in the phone cord and pulling the whole thing onto the floor.

"Junior!"

"I got it, I got it," Tony assured him, bending down to pick up the apparatus and making a big deal of checking it over as he frantically tried to delay. "I don't think it's broken."

"Will you just give me that?"

Tony hesitated, only to be saved by the bell as the elevator dinged, and Abby emerged carrying a couple of manila folders. As she headed in their direction, she immediately caught DiNozzo Snr's attention.

"Are you here to see me?" He flirted.

"Actually," Tony swiftly cut in. "She is. Seeing as your tour with Special Agent Gibbs was obviously cut short, Abby has volunteered to be your own personal guide to everything NCIS."

"I have?" Abby blinked, then quickly played along. "Of course, I have."

"I like the idea of that," DiNozzo Snr smiled. "You're certainly a lot better looking than Agent Gibbs."

"Except," Abby bit her lip. "I just have to go up and show these test results to the Director. It won't take a minute. Why don't you get Tony here to take you to my lab and I'll meet you down there. We can start the tour from there?"

"Well?" His father looked at him. "Lead the way, Junior."

In the elevator, the two men stood silently side by side, neither speaking as the car made the short journey down to Abby's lab. As they emerged, DiNozzo Snr occupied a few moments looking at the art on the walls and the various pieces of machinery. Behind him, Tony simply lent against the wall and waited.

"So, don't you want to know what Agent Gibbs and I talked about during his little tour?" His father asked, without turning.

"Well unless you've taken up boat building since we last met, I'm assuming it was about me," Tony shrugged. "It's not like the two of you have a whole lot else in common."

"He said you were the best young Agent he's ever worked with."

Tony was glad that his father still had his back to him, so he didn't see the surprise that rippled across his face. He knew it would be misunderstood. He wasn't surprised that Gibbs felt that way. If he had ever had any doubts Gibbs had proved it ten times over when he fought to have him recalled from the Seahawk. But he was slightly astonished that his Boss had simply come out and said it. Schooling his expression, he couldn't resist the opportunity.

"I know." He said simply.

As he'd expected, his quiet confidence was enough to make his father turn to look at him, raising a slightly mocking brow.

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"I'm good at my job," Tony allowed. "Gibbs wouldn't have kept me around otherwise."

DiNozzo Snr turned away again and made a big show of looking at one of Abby's pictures, bending a little and leaning closer as if focusing on a specific detail, as he carefully weighed his next words.

"What happened to his daughter?"

"He spoke to you about Kelly?" From this angle, DiNozzo could see the way his son stiffened at his words as if shot, his face draining of all colour, before flushing an awkward crimson. Then he spoke softly, almost as if talking to himself. "He doesn't usually talk about her."

"Kelly, huh? That's a pretty name," DiNozzo Snr continued smoothly, as if he hadn't noticed the shocked reaction. "How old was she when she died?"

Tony pressed his lips together. Even to offer up that small piece of information seemed like a betrayal of Gibbs most personal and most painful confidences. He couldn't help recalling all the times Gibbs had answered stranger's questions about whether or not he had children with a simple 'no'. But his Boss had obviously mentioned his little girl to try and show his father what he was missing out on with his living, breathing, son. Feeling awed and slightly humbled by the lengths his Boss was prepared to go to, to have his six Tony knew that he had no choice but to reciprocate that courage in putting himself - and his own long feelings - on the line.

"She was eight." He spoke quietly.

His father looked up, obviously startled that the little girl had died so young. As their eyes met, Tony spoke once again.

"The same age I was when Mum died."

The words hung between them in a silence filled with meaning. Tony's English mother had always encouraged him to use the traditional British "Mum" or "Mummy" with her. She always said it was because it was what she was used to from her own childhood. It had been a special thing between them. When talking to other people Tony had always referred to her as 'my mother' but within the family tradition had always held strong.

"Junior," His father sighed.

"Look Dad," Tony pressed on, determined to honour Gibbs' courage with a little of his own. "We're busy with the case right now. But as soon as he finishes his check flight Sayif won't be our problem any more. Let's get together over dinner and really catch up. My treat."

He waited, realising that he had already braced himself for rejection, was wondering what the excuse would be this time, was so focused on all the other times his father had broken arrangements, promises and reneged on countless father/son activities that he barely heard the unexpected answer.

"I'd like that, Junior," His father agreed. "How about the Rooftop Grill at the Adams House? I haven't made it up there yet this time and their Rib-Eye is the best in town."


	7. Chapter 7

Having safely passed his Dad off to Abby, Tony made his way back up to the bullpen, only to find that McGee had taken DiNozzo Snr's place at his desk. He swallowed hard as he realised he was about to find out what his father had been up to. During his career he had faced all manner of difficult situations, but he wasn't at all sure that he was ready to face this. _Just like any other case, DiNozzo,_ he encouraged himself. Taking a deep breath he forced his tone to sound brisk and businesslike.

"McGee, what have you got for me?"

"Nothing," McGee's brow wrinkled, wishing he had better news. Now he had had a little time to actually watch Tony interacting with his father he realised how misplaced his earlier glee had been. McGee had to admit been looking forward to seeing the usually cocky senior field Agent be a little embarrassed by having his father around. He hadn't expected things to be so strained between them. Thinking of his own easy relationship with his Dad he had felt bad and now was only too willing to be of help.

"Well try harder," DiNozzo instructed. "I need answers."

"No, I mean I've got nothing," McGee explained. "Nothing in his domestic bank accounts, nothing in his off shore accounts, he's sold all his shares, his property is foreclosed, his credit cards are frozen and his overdraft facilities are tapped out. As far as I can see your Dad is living on air."

"That can't be," Tony frowned, speaking almost to himself. "He's always had money."

"See for yourself," McGee turned the monitor around for him, showing several open windows. "Maybe he had money once, but now there's nothing left.

DiNozzo stared at him, shock writ large all over his features. Then he blinked, and McGee was reminded why this man was such an outstanding undercover Agent as every trace of surprise was wiped away in an instance, to be replaced by a burning determination to discover the truth. His next words might have been referring to any of their cases over the years, rather than his own flesh and blood.

"That would explain why he disinherited me, perhaps, there wasn't anything left for me to inherit," Tony decided. "Move over, let me take a closer look."

DiNozzo was still glued to the monitor his initial disbelief gradually giving way to the cold hard realisation that his father had been living high on the low for quite some time, when his father passed by with Abby and Gibbs dragged him up to MTAC. The investigator in him was pleased to have solved the mystery of why his father had suddenly arrived in town. But the son part couldn't help but feel disappointed that yet again it had taken some _other _reason (like a call from his headmaster or a important conference coming to town) to bring his father to visit. Could the man never come for no other reason than to see _him_?

Settling himself into the chair across the aisle from his Boss Tony knew better than to think Gibbs actually needed him here for the briefing. It wasn't like him to be so distracted during a case. He couldn't expect Gibbs not to notice. He was grateful that his Boss had arranged some relative privacy to give him a change to say what was on his mind. But even so it wasn't exactly the easiest thing to drop into conversation. Knowing Gibbs would sit here in silence until he said something, he struggled to find an appropriate opening. Deciding he could at least start with what he had planned to say in the back break room, before Gibbs phone had cut him off he broke the silence.

"Have to break one of your rules, Boss. Number six. Never say you're sorry.."

* * *

It was just as Abby had just returned DiNozzo Snr to the bullpen after his extended tour that Gibbs took Ziva's call regarding her and McGee's findings about Prince Abdulla. Surging to his feet, the team lead wasted no time in opening his drawer and pulling out his gun, putting it in his holster and grabbing his coat, even as he glanced across at his senior field Agent, who was having a sotto voice conversation with his father. From the looks of things, Senior was making a demand and Junior was trying to put him off.

"DiNozzo, grab your gear," As the younger man hurried to obey, Gibbs swept around his desk heading for the elevator, pausing only to make eye contact with DiNozzo Snr. "You too. You're coming with us."

"Might I at least ask where we might be going?" DiNozzo Snr didn't move.

"Just giving you a ride back to your Hotel." Gibbs' said blandly, knowing his expression gave nothing away.

"Here, Dad," Tony thrust his father's coat into his arms, effectively ending the staring contest. "Let's go."

Entering the elevator, Gibbs allowed himself a small smile as he realised that Tony automatically moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with him, leaving his father to take the 'probie position' up front. The smile broadened slightly as he saw Tony's fingers flick a subtle message in ASL.

_The brother did it?_

Gibbs gave an almost imperceptible nod, knowing that Tony would easily read it. As the three men exited the elevator no-one spoke as they made their way across the parking garage, towards the Agency issue sedan. When the two DiNozzo's both closed their hands on the door to the front passenger seat, he noted with a hint of pride that Tony refused to back down, when his father glared at him.

"Junior." His father reprimanded.

"Dad, I need to ride up front in case Gibbs needs back-up." Tony insisted.

"That's ridiculous, we're only going back to the Hotel." His father scoffed.

"You only get to ride shotgun with me if you're actually carrying a gun." Gibbs made _his_ feelings clear.

With bad grace, DiNozzo Snr gave up the battle and resigned himself to back seat, even as Gibbs and his senior field Agent buckled up in the front. Looking at his father in the rear view mirror Tony offered a few words of advice as the car began to move off.

"You might want to find something to hold onto, Dad. Gibbs' driving skills make his personality look positively congenial."

"You saying I'm a bad driver, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked dryly.

"Bad?" Tony pretended to consider that. "No, of course not Boss. I would never call you a bad driver. That would be unfair to bad drivers. The truth is you're downright terrifying."

"Never got a ticket."

"Only because nobody else can catch you."

"Never been in an accident."

"Only because everybody else can't wait to get out of your way."

"I'm sure I'll manage." DiNozzo Snr huffed.

Gibbs cast a surreptitious glance in the rear view mirror at the slightly affronted tone. DiNozzo didn't seem to notice anything wrong. Gibbs wondered if he was simply used to hearing his father sound affronted, irritated, impatient, and God knows what else. Frankly, Gibbs hoped that the man _had _taken a little offence at the easy banter between him and his senior field Agent. Maybe, it would help the man buy a clue that his only son was too much of a stranger to him.

"You know," Tony's tone was casual, but the challenge lurking below his words as they turned onto the freeway was unmistakeable. "Yesterday, I made from the Adams House to the Navy Yard in 19 minutes."

"Is that so?" Gibbs responded blandly.

"Uh huh," Tony shot him an evil grin. "Of course, at this time of day the traffic will be a bear you'd be lucky to do it in .. twice that."

"Ya think?" Gibbs' kept his eyes on the road, even as his lip quirked.

"Maybe, even three times." Tony allowed.

Gibbs gave a tight grin. And hit the gas. Hard.

* * *

Arriving at the Hotel it had been an easy matter to drop DiNozzo Snr off at his suite. To his credit the man made a good show of being unaffected by Gibbs driving, but the tint of green around his gills and his eagerness to part company with the two Agents told a different story. For his part Tony's simmering amusement at being in league with Gibbs lasted all the way up to the Penthouse. At least, until Prince Omar had made that comment about father's doing what could for their children. Gibbs hadn't missed the way that his senior field Agent had almost flinched at that. DiNozzo Snr had treated his offspring more like a millstone around his neck rather than a much loved child.

"Well, I guess that's that," Tony sighed, as they exited the suite. "What do you think Prince Omar will do to Abdalla?"

"Who knows," Gibbs shrugged. "But men like Prince Omar take family honour seriously. Abdulla's tarnished their reputation; I doubt he'll get off lightly."

Tony didn't say anything. He didn't need to. They were both thinking about the differences between the Saudi Prince's desire to do whatever he could for his son and DiNozzo's Snr's apparent indifference to the needs and wants of his.

"I asked my Dad to dinner," Tony surprised him. "Not sure how that will go. But maybe we can talk. Might even be a chance for him to tell me what's going on with him before I have to bust him."

"Maybe," Gibbs nodded his approval for the courage of his Agent. And if the man had agreed to dinner then maybe something Gibbs had said had sunk in after all. But he didn't want DiNozzo building his hopes up. DiNozzo Snr didn't strike him like the kind of man who would easily be willing to change his ways. "Go on. Take the rest of the day."

"Really?" Tony blinked at him. "What about my report?"

"It'll keep until tomorrow. It's not like there's going to be any trial."

"Boss, its OK," Tony protested, torn between gratitude that his Boss was looking out for him and embarrassment that Gibbs thought he needed special treatment. "I'm OK."

_The hell you are,_ Gibbs wanted to retort. But he knew this was neither the time nor the place. DiNozzo would only be awkward and embarrassed if he pushed things right now. The younger man needed time and space to try and make his peace with his father.

"You forget," Gibbs offered him a small smile. "I know how long it takes you to get spruced up. Don't make me tell you twice. Go."

"I booked us a table at the Rooftop Grill, do you want me to bring you a doggy bag?" Tony offered a little shyly. "Their steak is supposed to be really good."

"Nah," Gibbs shook his head, even though he knew what DiNozzo was trying to say with the offer. "Really good steak needs to be cooked cowboy style over an open fire, that way it's charred on the outside and moist in the middle."

"Ok, now you're making me hungry." Tony scowled.

"You need me to tell you again, I might change my mind." Gibbs raised a brow.

"I'm leaving," Tony assured him. "I'll think of you as I'm eating my steak."

Gibbs hid his grin as his senior field Agent left with a much lighter heart, which had been his intention. Making his own way down through the lobby, Gibbs intended to take a few moments to sign off with the officers of the Saudi guard and thank the Hotel management for their assistance. He was more than a little surprised to see DiNozzo Snr standing there with his luggage, obviously waiting to be checked out. Coming stealthily up behind him, Gibbs took a sadistic pleasure in the way that the man jumped at the warm breath unexpectedly ghosting across his ear as much as the low dangerous tone.

"Going somewhere?"

"Special Agent Gibbs," DiNozzo Snr looked past him, his eyes flecked with anxiety as he searched the lobby area. "Is Junior with you?"

"Were you even going to tell him you were leaving?" Gibbs ignored the question.

"A last minute change of plans," DiNozzo Snr evaded, as he quickly recovered his equilibrium. "There's a small matter which urgently requires my attention back in New York,"

"More urgent than your only son?" Gibbs asked dangerously.

Just as Gibbs had intended DiNozzo Snr looked a little unsettled by venomous tone. Still, he again tried to rally, pasting on that smile that made Gibbs want to lay him out cold and gesturing towards the lobby bar.

"Look, let me buy you a drink, it's obvious that you have some things you want to get off your chest. We can sit and talk things out like civilised people."

With an effort, Gibbs kept his fists clenched at his sides. Nothing on earth would persuade him to take a drink with this man. And he knew he had only minutes to spare if he was going to run damage limitation here. He closed his own eyes briefly at the sudden and unwelcome memory of Kelly sobbing _"Don't go, Daddy, please don't go."_ He couldn't change that, but he was damned if he would let this man just walk out of his son's life without so much as a word or a backward glance.

Not on his watch.

"You listen to me," He put himself right in DiNozzo Snr's face. "You get out your phone and you call your son. You think of a better reason for leaving than that sorry excuse you just gave me and you wait here and say good bye to him like a man."

"You don't want me to stay?" DiNozzo Snr blinked.

Gibbs felt a pang of guilt as he remembered how pleased Tony had been that his father had actually accepted his invitation to dinner and he could only hope he was doing the right thing. But DiNozzo Snr clearly wasn't ready to give his son any of the answers he needed. It was just setting the younger man up for more heartache and Gibbs figured DiNozzo had had enough of that over the last couple of days.

"Frankly, I'd like to run you out of town," Gibbs tone left no doubt that he wasn't joking. "Make sure he knows how much you appreciated spending time with him."

"You can't tell me how to talk to my own son," DiNozzo Snr blustered.

"Maybe not," Gibbs allowed. "But I can insist that you treat my Agent with the respect he deserves. You've brushed him aside his whole life. He needs to hear that you love him. You are not going to walk out of here and leave that boy hanging again. If you do I will hunt you down and make you sorry."

"Is that a threat, Special Agent Gibbs?" DiNozzo Snr frowned.

"Nope," Gibbs smiled the sort of smile that had made countless young recruits wet their pants. "That is a promise."

As DiNozzo Snr pulled out his phone, Gibbs turned on his heel. Making his way slowly back to the Agency Sedan, he leant on the side of the car, suddenly feeling much too old, and stared at his cell phone until it rang.

"Gibbs."

"Boss," DiNozzo was all business, a tone that hid a multitude of emotions but didn't fool Gibbs for an instant. "Change of plan. My Dad has to leave town, so I'll just get him checked out and then I'll head back to the Navy Yard to do my report."

"Take your time." Gibbs allowed.

There was a small suspicious silence, when Gibbs thought his senior field Agent might call him on the fact that he had accepted DiNozzo Snr's unexpected departure without question. Except, that Gibbs didn't think that was a conversation either of them would be entirely comfortable having.

"I still have the table booked at the Rooftop Grill," Tony said instead. "You want to join me for dinner? My treat, the steak really is supposed to be something special."

"I've got a better idea," Gibbs responded. "Go home, get changed and at be at my place by 18.30 hours. Bring the beer. I'll show you want a real steak should taste like."

"Will do," Tony paused and for once Gibbs didn't hang up, knowing the younger man had more to say. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Gibbs knew his Agent was referring to his plan to bust his father when he checked out, forcing the elder DiNozzo to come clean about his con-man lifestyle. Turning around, Gibbs sighed as he tried to think of an answer. He wanted nothing more than to see that man brought to account, but the fallout could get ugly and he knew what Tony was like for blaming himself when the world around him went to hell in a hand basket. It had to be his decision.

"You always do." He reassured the younger man.

* * *

Much later, as Gibbs carried their plates and the grill into the kitchen he had to admit, he had half expected DiNozzo to bail his father out. It was typical of the younger man to think of others needs before his own. What worried the former Marine was that so far he hadn't said one word about the elder DiNozzo bailing on him. As much as Tony was obviously used to a string of broken promises right before his father ducked out of his life, that one had to have hurt.

"You want me to wash those up?" Tony asked, following behind him.

"Grab a cloth." Gibbs instructed instead, as he let the hot water wash over the grill before he started scrubbing.

Between them, they made short work of the few dishes, Gibbs hiding his smile as Tony moved easily around his kitchen, putting things away without needing to ask where they went, before moving on to automatically re-fill the coffee maker and reaching up into the top cupboard and hunting around for a moment before he found the open packet of cookies he had started on his last visit.

"Why do you buy these things if you never eat them?" Tony asked, around a mouthful of cookie.

Gibbs simply rolled his eyes at him, which caused the younger man to blush slightly, both at the obvious answer to his question and at the small act of kindness. Pushing another cookie into his mouth he chewed a little more slowly as he watched Gibbs pull out two mugs for the coffee, recognising one of them as the world's best Boss mug he had bought a few years back.

"I got my Dad a mug like that for his Birthday when I was about ten," He recalled. "Never did see him use it. Never had dinner with just the two of us, unless we were on vacation, there was always my latest step-mother, or some business associate, always made me feel like I wasn't enough for him. Of course, I don't know if he really felt like that, because we never actually talked."

Gibbs filled both the mugs and passed one across to DiNozzo, before leaning back against the counter and waiting silently for the younger man to continue with what was clearly on his mind. Tony cupped his hands around its warmth, taking comfort in the familiarity of the domestic little scene. He'd long since stopped being surprised at how much Gibbs house felt like home to him.

"We moved so many times, when I was growing up," He reflected. "I lost count of the number of times I'd come back from boarding school to a different house. Sometimes, it even slipped my father's mind to tell me, so I wouldn't find out until we turned into what I'd think was someone else's drive. Back then I thought it was normal, I guess I just didn't know any difference. Like, I said we never actully talked."

"Is he gonna call you when he gets to Monte Carlo?" Gibbs asked idly, as if it didn't really matter.

"I guess we'll see," Tony sighed as he put his mug aside. "He said he enjoyed our talk and we should do that again, of course, he didn't actually say _when_."

"And if he doesn't call?" Gibbs eyed him closely. "Think you're gonna be able to handle that?"

"Always have before," Tony flashed him a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Why should this time be any different?"

Gibbs turned to top-up his mug, knowing that DiNozzo wouldn't thank him for either his fury or his pity right now and he was feeling both far too strongly to be able to keep the emotions off his face, because that man coming here had raised Tony's hopes. Seeing him in his life, interacting with his friends, had given him a glimpse of what it might be like to have his father around. Having the chance to speak to his father on almost equal terms had ripped open old wounds. If DiNozzo Snr didn't call now it would be like rubbing salt into them. Making a decision, he reached up into the cupboard and found the items he was looking for.

"Here," He tossed the packages at DiNozzo. "Take those through."

Tony glanced down at the packages he was clutching to his chest and his face broke into a delighted and totally genuine smile as he recognised chocolate, marshmallows and graham crackers.

"S'mores?" He grinned. "Do you have any sticks?"

"Got a back yard."

"And I suppose you want me to go get them," Tony grumbled good naturedly, tossing his next words over his shoulder as he headed out, dropping the food on the coffee table and headed to the back door. "You're supposed to be the survival expert, I'll probably trip on a root, or get bitten by a snake, and then we'll have to spend all night in the ER."

Once he was well out of earshot, Gibbs pulled out his phone. It took him a few minutes to get the contact details he wanted off the visitor's information DiNozzo Snr had filled out on arrival at the Navy Yard. He didn't care that it was late. He even got as far as dialling the number, before he hung up. Much as he hated the feeling of helplessness, if this was going to work then it had to come from Tony's father.

He sighed.

"You can't make him love me." Tony's voice spoke quietly from behind him.

Gibbs turned a little guilty to see his senior field Agent standing in the doorway. Worried that DiNozzo might think he had overstepped the mark, the fond look on the younger man's face came as a blessed relief.

"I shouldn't have to." He let a little of his frustration leak out.

"No, you shouldn't," Tony agreed. "But none of his failings are your fault. Either he'll call or he won't. And if he doesn't, I still a want a closer relationship but maybe I don't need it as much as I used to think."

"You sure about that?" Gibbs arched a brow.

"He's my father," Tony allowed. "But I've been fooling myself that he could ever really be Dad material. I just don't think he has the gene for it."

"You better not be thinking that you're too old to need a Dad," Gibbs warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Tony assured him.

"Because you acted like a damned idiot these last couple of days," Gibbs continued, as he led the way back into the lounge room and settled onto the couch, and pulled out his knife to strip the sticks Tony had found. "But then so did I."

There was a moment of silence. He almost expected a come back about that sounding a lot like an apology and he figured it would be no more than he deserved. He should have stepped up and had DiNozzo's six the minute that man set foot in the Navy Yard instead of trying to be so damned honourable and do the right thing. Instead, the look Tony gave him as he glanced across spoke volumes. Gibbs felt his chest tighten at the depth of love in that expression. A thousand words of gratitude affection, respect and regard were exchanged in that single look.

"Guess, it runs in the family." Tony smiled.

"Guess, it does." Gibbs smiled back.


End file.
